𝙩𝙪 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨 - p. jackson [₂]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒙𝒍𝒗.

―✧―

𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐔𝐍.

all morning frank and i had scoured the port of pylos. frank allowed only me to come with him, thinking my charmspeak might be useful if we ran into his shape-shifting relatives.

piper would've came too, but her dad's face was plastered everywhere (thanks to his new movie) and i knew some people would recognize her. people might recognize me too (thanks dad), but at least i could make myself invisible if i really had to.

as it turned out, my dagger was more useful than my charmspeak so far. we'd battled a laistrygonian giant, slain a giant warthog in the town square, and defeated a flock of stymphalian birds using our bows and arrows.

i was glad for the work. it kept me from thinking about dad, and life back in new york. 

we still had the malibu plot, but dad decided that he was just gonna put it in my name and not rebuild yet. the avengers were out and about, stopping by the tower occasionally. i didn't get to talk to them much, but nat had dropped in on one of mine and dad's iris-messages, and even steve was there once. 

i missed them all.

it was around one in the afternoon, when i finally put my charmspeak to work. i spoke with an ancient greek ghost in a laundromat (on a one-to-ten scale for weird conversations, definitely an eleven) and got directions to an ancient stronghold where the shape-shifting descendants of periclymenus supposedly hung out.

after trudging across the island in the afternoon heat, we found the cave perched halfway up a beachside cliff. frank insisted that i wait for him at the bottom while he checked it out.

i nodded, squinting up at the cave entrance and hoping i hadn't guided him into a death trap.

behind me, a stretch of white sand hugged the foot of the hills. sunbathers sprawled on blankets. little kids splashed in the waves. the blue sea glittered invitingly.

i thought back to when i was twelve, and me and my dad had took a trip to hawaii. we spent the entire time surfing and having splash wars, even though my dad was a horrible surfer.

i missed him.

i glanced up at the cliff's summit. the ruins of an old castle clung to the ridge. i wasn't sure if that was part of the shape-changers' hideout or not. nothing moved on the parapets. the entrance of the cave sat about seventy feet down the cliff face — a circle of black in the chalky yellow rock like the hole of a giant pencil sharpener.

nestor's cave, the laundromat ghost had called it. supposedly the ancient king of pylos had stashed his treasure there in times of crisis. the ghost also claimed that hermes had once hidden the stolen cattle of apollo in that cave.